


Always Something There to Remind Me

by Awesomeist0



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sami really needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomeist0/pseuds/Awesomeist0
Summary: In an alternate universe, a few "lucky" people are born with the names of their soulmates tattooed on their body.  Most consider this a blessing.Not Sami Zayn.He hates absolutely everything about his.  Hates the way people treat him when they see the very obviously male name tattooed into his skin.  Hates knowing that he has absolutely no control in his life; the only person he will ever truly love is already out there.  Waiting.But then Sami meets him.  *Seth*.  And hates him even more.  Even after all the years of lies and resentments, Sami can't stay away.  Because they're soulmates.





	Always Something There to Remind Me

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning early on for a brief instance of self injury. It's not that graphic, but just be aware. My knowledge of 2000's RoH is limited to a few random matches on YouTube and Wikipedia, so I've taken a lot of liberties with the timeline. 
> 
> Enjoy! (and don't worry. Finn and Becky show up in chapter 2!)

They were supposed to be the lucky ones. 

The ones with a special destiny; a love that existed somewhere out there that was fated just for _ them _. Because they. The ones with tattoos etched into their flesh from birth. Not placed by any human hand but by a cosmic fluke. These were the names of their soulmates. The people that would mean more to them than anything else ever could. To those without, the soulmarks, as they became fancifully described, were so highly coveted. Yearned for. The promise of eternal love, as timeless and deep as the oceans themselves. 

But Sami hated his.

He couldn’t remember a time when his life wasn’t completely dictated by the four letters lovingly written in the swoopiest of calligraphy that seemed to burn against his hip bone. He’d trace his fingers across them absently, fingers brushing the high brushstroke of the “S” and hating...fucking _ hating _ that it was on him with all of his very heart. The very fact that it was there took so much from him.

Because not all soulmates were heterosexual.

He’d been born marked by a very obviously male name. He’d never been able to decide anything for himself. If he even liked...really _ liked _ guys. He thought that he did, but was it poisoned by the fact that he was waiting for _ him _? The one out there somewhere in the world that had Sami’s name on his own hip? 

The one who had ruined his life just by existing.

His parents. They knew what his was. Maybe not even who he was, but who the universe decided he should be. Deep down, Sami knew that they couldn’t hate him. But there was a frostiness that chased him from room to room; a clinging disappointment that danced in the spaces of his mother’s half-hearted attempts at conversation. His father had barely spoken more than a dozen words to him in the entirety of his life. And it was all. Because. He had a soulmate.

A male soulmate.

They never said anything to him about it. They didn’t have to. It was written all over the lines of disappointment that creased deep in his father’s brow. In the tears that hid in the corners of his mother’s eyes; the ones that he could only barely see sparkling in the dark lashes like the small diamond against her hand. But in long conversations with his aunt; ones that he wasn’t supposed to hear but somehow always felt deep in his gut. They’d fall. Gush down her cheeks and just flow, flow until she was sobbing and luckily her sobs managed to drown out his own.

_ “I don’t know how to live with it. _

_ Sami. My Sami. He’s...he’s damned. _

_ Allah hates him. _

_ But how can a mother hate her own son?” _

He tried to carve the tattoo out of his skin that night.

It was a stupid idea. The mark, as he soon discovered, couldn’t be tampered with. Couldn’t be cut. He pressed the razor into his hip as deeply as he dared. Even as his own blood glared up at him; thick and red and accusing and so warm that it felt like it was scalding. No matter how deep he cut. No matter how much he screamed and felt his voice blister against his tongue. His skin was bleeding, yes. Stained crimson and pooling into his sheets. But his soulmark.

That. Fucking. Name.

It was unharmed.

It was almost eerie. The pale skin between the letters bled, yes. But the letters themselves. They were totally unharmed. Those four letters; the ones he hated and resented but the ones he knew the feel of at an almost primal level were whole. Perfect.

_ S-E-T-H _

He had to wonder, and it was an utterly crazy thought brought on by the bubbling hysteria that flowed through his veins to surface at his hip along with his blood.

_ Was Seth protecting me? Or at least himself? _

Was he keeping his presence on Sami’s body; the one that he’d done nothing to earn but somehow he was still entitled to in some cosmic joke? Was he clinging to Sami’s skin like the touch he would someday feel?

Or maybe. In a moment of desperation, had Seth...whoever he was...tried his best to excise Sami’s name from his body like a cancer? Because what if that’s all Sami was? His parents barely, if at all, loved him. His brothers cared even less. And when others discovered his mark, it was practically open season for cruelty. High school was a battleground of cruel giggles and spat insults; three and four letter words crafted to cut him as deeply as possible for sharing his soul with _ Seth _. His mark was on his hip, yes, but that was still sometimes visible. Changing in gym class. Taking off a hoodie in a stifling classroom...eventually, Sami learned to just keep it on, paying for his decision in the sweat that would stream down his back. He couldn’t make it.

But he had to.

Each of the days bleeding into the next. Ticking by so so slowly and fuck if sometimes he didn’t know how he’d be able to survive another second. Not living, not by any sense of the word. Just breathing. And when he had the chance to flee. Escape his life and his family and everything else that weighed his heart down like an anchor, he rushed toward it. Ignored his father calling him an idiot; he was weak and _ people like him _ had no business in the public eye. Wrestling

_ //and Seth, but not Seth. never Seth// _

was what kept his heart beating. So he chased it.

*

Kevin was the first person he'd ever met that also had a soulmate. He wanted to hate him for it because _ his _ love was like something out of a movie. The perfect wife. Perfect baby only months away from being born. Sami's soulmark would pulse in anguish each time he caught a glimpse of the name on Kevin's bicep. Almost as if his own had infected his blood with a poison his heart had no choice but to spread. He tried to stay so numb. Focusing only on his training and hoping that the pain of a hundred ill timed bumps would drown out the pain from his soul.

He couldn't ignore it. Even though he'd never met Seth...didn't fucking ever _ want _ to meet Seth, he still ached for him. Felt his absence so acutely, like the throbbing of a phantom limb.

And then he met Tyler.

He couldn't remember exactly where they were. Could have been Chicago. Philadelphia. Or one of another dozen or so other smarky towns where the fans watched them with as much bloodthirsty intensity as the Romans watched the gladiator fights. There were only hours before the next show as he and Kevin sat in the dingy locker room, skin crawling from the shadows and mold as they went through the main spots in their match. Kevin was picking at a slice of pizza they'd ordered two nights previously, and the scent of grease mingled with the background of decades of stale sweat to form something utterly noxious. Sami considered pulling on his Generico mask just to get some relief.

"Guys!" Colt's voice was inflated with obnoxious cheer as always, but he barely heard it. Didn't even _ see _ him, or Kevin for that matter. The entire. Universe. Dissipated into nothingness before him, and all Sami could feel was the frantic throbbing of his heart. There was someone else with him. All he could see were those liquid brown eyes. Deep and fathomless, like entire universes condensed into something no man was ever worthy of gazing into. So open.

Shocked. _ Afraid _. All in the eternity of that one second. Sami couldn't breathe.

"The fuck's up with Generico?" He didn't need to look at Kevin to see the disinterest in his shrug. Or look at Colt to see the various shades of curiosity and eventual apathy in his classically attractive features. "Anyway, just showing the new guy around. This is Kevin and Sami."

His heart pounded harder as the fear in those dark eyes turned briefly to recognition. 

"And guys, this is-"

"Tyler." His smile was lopsided and almost frantic, like he'd haphazardly thrown on a suit of armor. Such a crooked little smile. Sami had no idea how he could tell, but he could practically feel the fragility in it. Like it would fall to the floor and shatter into millions of fragments with only the slightest breeze. 

The confusion in Colt's eyes was as tangible as the soulmark on Sami's skin. "Tyler. Right." He stared at Tyler for a few moments, before ultimately deciding that he truly didn't care about anything that was happening here. "_ Tyler's- _"

Something dark and sinister took up residence in Sami's stomach when he saw Tyler blatantly staring at the name etched in his skin. He was so clearly repulsed by it. Probably by Sami for that matter. 

"_ Tyler's _ thinking about signing with us."

Tyler shrugged, looking utterly disinterested to the rest of the world. But somehow, he could see through it. Fuck, he knew nothing about this man, yet it was as if Sami himself see past it all. 

Deep into his soul.

Colt made a few pleasant excuses and skittered off somewhere like one of the roaches that hid in the corners of the locker room. Tyler was quick to follow him, his posture ramrod straight and practically radioactive in his discomfort of the situation. Of Sami. There was nothing he could do. He didn't want Tyler there anymore; needed to be free of the uncomfortable palpitations in his arm and on his hip. But Kevin.

"Wait." He was on his feet and at Tyler's side quicker than Sami could even draw breath. Tyler's eyes were both skittish and haughty, staring into Kevin's as if he was some sort of subspecies. But never looking into his own. "You saw my buddy's mark." Sami actually gasped in pain at the sensation of his best friend's calloused fingertips circling over and over Seth's name. Making it more obvious.

"So?"

"You got a problem with it, you've got a problem with me. And most of the guys here."

Tyler scoffed, and it was so dismissive and abrasive it was almost like Sami had been slapped. Fuck, the physical pain probably would have hurt less because _ this... _ this emptiness and coldness felt like he was being cut in a part of himself he didn't know existed before. "I don't give a fuck what _ Generico _ sticks his dick in." He turned towards Sami, lips smirking but eyes so harsh. "I'm no fag."

"Prick." Not even bothering to respond, Tyler left, taking all of the oxygen in the room with him. For a while, there was only silence. Kevin's incensed mumblings ticking off of his consciousness like rain over glass, but never sinking in. That _ look _ in Tyler's eyes. So utterly repulsed by everything about Sami. His dark eyes searching and probing his

_ //soul// _

mind. Running roughshod through his emotions, picking and twisting and absolutely not caring that he was ripping away until he felt like his insides had been tangled in barbed wire.

It wasn't until Claudio was shaking his shoulders and Kevin was pressing a crumpled kleenex against his cheek that Sami realized that he was crying. And didn't want to stop.

*

Tyler ended up signing with RoH. 

But outside of that first night, they barely spent any time together. There were matches. In various permutations between himself, Kevin, Tyler, and Jimmy Jacobs. Occasionally with Claudio and Chris Hero thrown in. All of them scrambling for purchase in the tag title picture. But even when they fought, Sami never found himself in the ring with Tyler for more than a few spots. Tyler was always so quick to tag out. Or Jimmy would blindside him. In the heat of the moment, under the bright lights in the center of the ring with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, it was easy enough to ignore. At 4am, curled beside Kevin on a lumpy mattress in a nondescript motel room, each brush of Tyler's skin over his own flashed in his memory with the same intensity as a solar flare. Burning out his nerve endings and making him shudder so violently that Kevin would sleepily accuse him of jacking off. 

Tyler was all he could think about. He hated him. Hated the casual way he wielded his beauty like a weapon; clearly so aware that he was much more attractive than almost everyone else he'd interact with and judging accordingly. Hated the fact that Tyler seemed to have a fucking rocket strapped to his back, propelling him to the top of the roster so quickly Sami was almost surprised his neck hadn't snapped. Yes, Tyler was talented. But so were others. It was almost like the universe decided eons ago that Tyler Black would be of critical importance to anyone lucky enough to be pulled into his orbit.

And Sami fucking hated it. Barely recognized himself at times, skulking around the various gyms they all frequented just to catch glimpses of him when he was totally distracted and at ease. When Tyler saw Sami, he was always on edge. But when Sami saw him, smiling and talking about video games or Harry Potter and the other not wrestling things that made him more than a cardboard cutout. He lit up like the sun. A sun that Sami would always be denied. 

There was a cruelty to Tyler that he couldn't understand. It wasn't just the snippy little comments he'd share with the other members of the Age of the Fall. He'd never really heard what they were talking about, but they were always cruel and more often than not at his and Kevin's expense. Sami had dealt with that so much in high school that he thought he had to be immune, but waiting behind the curtain backstage for his music to hit and hearing that nasal cackle threaded with his name stage whispered. That fucking hurt. He didn't know why, but his soulmark would throb almost in time with the tears that so badly wanted to fall. 

Kevin always tried to make him feel better. Call Tyler some creative variation of a fucking douchebag, even if neither could understand why this childish behavior was ripping Sami's heart to shreds. There was a sadistic part of him that yearned for it. He'd actually never really exchanged more than a dozen or so words with Tyler, and most of those were nearly silent warnings of what their next moves would be. Sami hid it as best he could in the ring, using his Generico persona to hide the uncertain aching in his 

_ //soul// _

chest. Fuck, he hated Tyler so, so much.

That didn't stop Sami from staring at his waist. At the tan skin, so smooth and apparently flawless but always, always hidden. Covered by a shirt or trunks clearly pulled slightly too high. At the spot where a strange name marred his own. The name of a person that people like Tyler would always hate him for having.

*

Five years later, and everything changed.

His time in the indies had run its course. He loved all of the experiences he had. Wrestling in places he'd only dreamed of visiting. Germany. Japan. _ That _ had been a dream. But there wasn't much left out there for him. He'd flitted from promotion to promotion, searching for _ Seth _ in the face of every beaming fan. In every competitor he shared the ring with. And never found him.

So he got tired of looking. 

Which apparently turned out to be the magical key to something he once thought was unattainable. He'd been offered the chance to try out for the WWE. Kevin mocked him for it. Called him a sellout and a McMahon wage slave, but Sami could see the happiness and jealousy blazing in his eyes in equal proportions. This wasn't something he even thought could be possible when he fell in love with wrestling more than a decade ago. So he took it.

Despite being in successful indie promotions for most of his adult life, Sami found himself starting back in the WWE's developmental program. Which probably should have bothered him more than he did, because he was almost grateful for the opportunity to start fresh. He loved performing as El Generico, but now. He'd just get to be Sami Zayn. Free of the mask and any other gimmicks, and the knowledge that he'd be so utterly vulnerable was just slightly more thrilling than it was terrifying. He was a bit surprised and thrilled to see so many faces from his past. Claudio, who was quick to point out that he went by Cesaro now. Adrian Neville.

_ Tyler. _

Deep down, Sami knew he was affiliated with the WWE, although the talent pool was so expansive and Tyler was close to moving up to the main roster he never thought they'd cross paths. But while he was taking a tour of the performance center with Matt Bloom, there he was. His long dark hair pulled into a messy bun as he was stretching after what was probably an intense workout. Tyler had earbuds in and seemed oblivious to the world, but that didn't stop Bloom from going over to him with a little smile.

"Seth!"

All of the color slowly drained from Sami's vision. 

He grabbed his soulmark through his shirt, the letters pulsing beneath his hand. It was a horrible joke. It had to be. Tyler wasn't _ Seth _; couldn't be Seth. This was a horrible joke at his expense.

But Bloom wouldn't do that. And even if he did possess that kind of cruelty, he seemed totally oblivious. And Tyler. _ Seth. _

He was crushed. Sami could see it in his eyes and almost feel it radiating out of his skin. Seth didn't say anything. Neither did Sami. If he opened his mouth to even try to make noise, he wasn't sure if he'd scream or vomit.

Somehow, the head trainer didn't seem to notice the insurmountable gulf that appeared between two of his talent. "I know you remember Sami Zayn." 

"Yeah." Less of a word than breath, twisting into something on the cusp of being audible. Sami had spent years dreaming of the moment he met his soulmate. How perfect it would be. How Seth would hold him; take him into his arms and swear never to let him go. They would be together forever. Sharing breath. A heartbeat. Never feeling pain or anything else outside of the warm glow of their love again.

That wasn't going to happen here.

Seth shook his head. Grabbed his phone and his water bottle and started to flee. To the locker room and his life; the one Sami was supposed to be in. Seeing his soulmate leave him discarded in the gym like something utterly worthless flipped a switch in his brain. This _ could _ be the thing that broke him. Knowing that his soulmate would never love him. The love he was entitled to would never be his, and he'd spent almost 30 years chasing that lie. He could lose everything. His sanity. Maybe even his life because the pain was too great.

But Sami was angry. Angry in a way he'd never been before. His cells themselves felt like they were boiling over; tense and electric, and nothing. Fucking nothing would stop him from finding relief. At Seth's expense. His feet barely felt like they made contact with the floor as he stalked past the faceless throng of other talent. Some tried to talk to him, but Sami couldn't hear them. Couldn't hear anything besides his heart roaring in his ears.

The door to the locker room sank heavily into the frame. Seth was alone here, his tan skin looking so pale and clammy against the sea of white tile. He sat on the bench, holding his face in his hands and clearly not caring Sami was there. "Let me see it."

Seth drew a shuddering breath in response, and the vulnerability in it made him angrier. 

Sami slammed his fist against the closest locker, and the metallic *clang* was like an unwanted other entity in the room. Bearing witness to this moment that was supposed to be for him alone. "Your soulmark, _ Tyler _. I know you have one. You've seen mine. Hated me for it."

"Never hated you." His interlaced fingers still covered his eyes, and Sami wasn't sure if not seeing him made this situation easier to handle. Or if it put a distance between them that fanned the fires of his anger to a raging inferno. 

Sami laughed, but there was no joy in it at all. It was either laugh at this man or sob, and he was far too furious to let Seth see him so vulnerable. "Such fucking bullshit." All those memories of feeling like an outsider. Isolated and kept at arm's length because of the four letters in his skin; the four letters Seth had as well. 

"Goddamnit, Sami!" Seth snapped his head up, and Sami forgot how to breathe. Could have been because of the pain that glittered in his dark eyes like shards of glass. And cut him just as deeply.

Or it could have been because Seth just said his name for the first time. Not "Generico," hissed and threaded through with mocking laughter. But his actual name. The one fate had placed on Seth's hip. Hearing it doused his anger as abruptly as a bucket of ice water. He had to see it. The four letters that were _ his _ and his alone. "Please." His voice was a broken little thing, almost crushed completely from the effort it took to hold back his tears.

Seth stood up. Lifted up his shirt. 

And Sami sobbed. It was there. Just as delicate as the name inked into his own skin. He could barely see it anymore through the thick fog of his tears, but he could feel it. Feel his own with Seth's name on it pulsing like a heartbeat. Calling to his soulmate in a primal way and begging for his touch. His love.

"I don't want you." It was the absence of everything in Seth's eyes that scared him. No fondness. No compassion. Just absolute blankness, like Sami was nothing more than a stranger. And always would be. 

"How-" Sami chased his breath through the thick forest of his sobs. His soulmate couldn't mean this. He didn't care for Seth either. Not as a person at least, but they were soulmates. Now that Sami knew what they were to each other, he needed him so badly.

"You don't want me either." Seth pulled Sami's shirt up a little, and he winced in shock as his soulmark was exposed to the cold air. Fingertips traced the faint lines of scar tissue between the letters with such gentleness, but it was a touch that left Sami feeling cold. Accusations blistered in every swipe of Seth's skin against his, feeling so similar to the bite of the razor all those years ago. 

Sami shook his head quickly, wanting to brush the hand off of his skin while simultaneously needing it there. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What fucking difference does it make?" Seth turned away abruptly, wiping his streaming eyes with the hand that once touched Sami's skin. "I could never care about you. You _ clearly _ never wanted to give a shit about me. These marks mean nothing."

Each word Seth spoke found home in Sami's heart like an arrow. Sinking in deep. Destroying the fragile muscle more and more until he didn't think it could continue beating. "Can't we try?" Without thinking, he reached out to press his hand over his name on Seth's skin. "You-_ we're _ together now! I-" Sami hissed in pain as Seth dug his fingers into his wrist. Pulling so tightly and violently he had to let go or his bone would snap. "I hate you!" Words so quiet that he barely heard them, but hung in the locker room as thick and acrid as plumes of smoke. "I fucking _ fucking _ hate you!!"

"Good!" The twisted little grin on Seth's face was like something out of a nightmare. Almost crazed. Fucking _ evil. _

And he left, not caring that Sami had been reduced to a sobbing heap on the floor.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, my fanfics are written about the characters (Seth and Sami) and not the athletes that portray them. Maybe someday, I'll give Sami a nice, fluffy happy story.


End file.
